


Ride a Painted Pony Let That Spinning Wheel Spin

by unknowntrombone



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Rumbelle Christmas in July, rcij
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:17:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4419128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowntrombone/pseuds/unknowntrombone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's 'Bring Your Spouse Day' for Belle's parenting group, and an incident between her, her husband Rowan, and one of the other parents soon escalates into a life-changing event for the entire family. Rumbelle Christmas in July gift for sfiddy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sfiddy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sfiddy/gifts).



**Chapter 1:**           

Belle opens her eyes as soon as the morning light hits her window. Rowan lies beside her in exactly the same spot as the night before. His arms are around her waist and his legs and hers are still intertwined. His chest rises and falls slowly. He looks peaceful, and content. Taking care not to wake him, Belle takes the loose strands of her husband’s hair, which falls across his face, and puts them behind his ear. When they met, he had been graying at the temples. Now, four years into their marriage, all of his hair is gray. Belle carefully touches his jawline, feeling the rough stubble against the smooth skin of her palm. She leans closer and places a gentle kiss on the bridge of his nose. More lines are appearing on his face. Each an imprint of all the times he laughed or smiled.

****

                They had met at a painting class in Oswego. Belle could still remember the first time she saw him, sitting next to her working on a watercolor of the lake, his brow furrowed in concentration. Even though it was a humid New York summer, he wore a blue dress shirt and slacks. She thought she spent more time looking at him than working on her painting. When he turned his head to stare right back, she immediately looked away, but she couldn’t hide that she was blushing like a schoolgirl. After the class ended, he introduced himself to her as Rowan Gold. Later, she looked him up on facebook. There was, indeed, a Rowan Gold who lived in Oswego, and he was single.

                Belle and Rowan bonded instantly over a mutual appreciation for tea, noir films, and modern literature. They found that the hour-long painting class simply wasn’t enough time for them to continue their conversations. After exchanging numbers, they were soon talking to one another until past midnight. She learned more about him and what his life had been like. He had grown up in Glasgow. When he was barely older than a teenager, he had another wife, Milah, and a beautiful boy named Neal. Even thinking of Neal was enough to bring him to tears. Milah had left them only a few years into their marriage, and Neal had died in the same car crash that left him unable to walk without a cane. For years he grieved, until he became sullen and disagreeable. For years he put up with being shunned by friends and family alike until one day he just couldn’t take it anymore. He left Scotland and moved to New York, where he had been living ever since. Until he met Belle, he thought he had forgotten what it was like to even have friends. Belle could relate to that story. She went to college in the United States to escape her repressive, conservative-minded family in Australia, and never looked back.

                As summer transitioned to autumn, the days got shorter and the number of classes left got smaller. Belle began to wonder why Rowan had not asked her on a date. Finally, on the last class, she walked right up to him and asked:

“Would you like to go to dinner with me?”

His entire face grew red and he burst into a dimpled smile.

                “Yes!” He squeaked. Then he pulled her into a tight hug and whispered: “I wanted to ask you for weeks.”

                “Then why didn’t you?”

                “I worried you would say no, or laugh at me. I guess…I was afraid.”

                Belle smiled and shook her head. “I cannot remember where I first heard this,” she replied. “But when I find myself unsure of what to do, it is something that I always try to remember.”

                “And what is that?”

                “Do the brave thing and bravery will follow.”

                Life after that was a whirlwind. She did not remember much of it, but Belle did remember that she was happy. She did remember candlelit dinners in their dining room with cheap wine from Trader Joes and long nights of cuddling. Vacations to the Adirondacks and New York City. Books finding their way from the antique shop to their growing library. Sex, pumpkin carving, and chocolate creamcakes. Their life was like something out of a fairytale.

                It wasn’t soon after they wed that Belle told him she was pregnant. It was difficult at first for Rowan, as it brought back memories of his former wife and late son. Yet creating a new life brought them closer where it had driven Rowan and Milah apart. They named their daughter Sophie and moved to Skaneateles soon after she was born.

                After they moved, Rowan got a job restoring antiques at a workshop downtown while Belle stayed at home with their little girl. Eager to connect with other men and women who were going through the same experience, she joined a social group for new parents. Yet she found it difficult to fit in. Sometimes she would talk just a little too much, or get a little too passionate about topics that the other parents found controversial. No matter how hard she tried to be like them, they would belittle, talk over, and exclude her. Often she’d come home exhausted and in tears. Rowan would try to be as supportive as he could. After they put Sophie to bed, he’d cheer her up with massages, oral, and trashy movies. She felt like she could not have married a more wonderful husband.

****

                Belle plays with Rowan’s silky hair until he stirs. He gives her a sleepy smile and brings her in for a kiss.

                “Morning,” she whispers.

                “Morning,” he whispers back.

                Then she kisses him.

                “Do you remember what day it is?” Belle asks.

                “Aye, it’s Sunday,” Rowan replies.

                “True, but it’s also ‘bring your spouse day’ for my parent group,” Belle points out.

                Rowan sighs.

                “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can just tell them that you’re sick.”

                “That’s what you told them last time,” Rowan replies.

                “That you had to work over the weekend?”

                Rowan laughs. “That’s what you told them the time before last. Look Belle, I _want_ to go to this thing.”

                “Rowan, the last time I took you to a party you hid in the basement.”

                “It was an office.”

                “A _basement_ office.”

                “I will be fine,” Rowan assured her. “I _want_ to meet these people after having head so much about them.” There is an edge to his voice. In hindsight, it should have worried Belle more.

                Belle puts on a sundress, and then goes into Sophie’s room. Sophie is already awake and looking through a picture book. Belle knows that Sophie will soon be reading. She gives her daughter a kiss on the forehead, and then begins to read to her.

                While Belle is reading, Rowan is in the kitchen making breakfast. He calls them over when he is finished. On the table are three plates of pancakes. At the moment, Rowan is drawing a smiley face on one of them with whipped cream. When she sees it, Sophie breaks into a smile and bounds over to that seat.  

                Rowan moves the plate up and down to make it look like the pancake is talking. _“So you wanna eat me dearie!”_ He says in a high-pitched sing-song voice.

                “Yes!” Sophie exclaims.

                “ _Hehe I don’t thiiink so!”_ He begins to drag the plate across the table. Sophie grabs the plate at the other end and pulls it back.

                “ _Noooo!”_

                Then Rowan takes a knife and pretends to stab the pancake several times before cutting it up. It strikes Belle as slightly morbid.

                After breakfast, Belle does the dishes. It is right when they are finishing that she hears a scream coming from the living room. She runs over there to find that Sophie is sitting on the ground in a huff. “I wanna wear my Anna coat!” She exclaims.

                “It’s summer and we are going to a park sweetie,” Rowan replies sounding completely exasperated. “You will be way too warm.”

                “I wanna wear my Anna coat! I wanna look like Anna from Frozen!”

                “Your Anna coat is for winter,” Rowan tries to explain. “When it’s really cold and snowy here like it is in the movie.”

                Sophie screams again. Belle and Rowan are quiet, mild-mannered people and Belle finds herself wondering yet again where she got that set of lungs. Rowan looks unsure about what to do and gives Belle a ‘help me’ face.

                “Alright sweetie, you can wear your Anna coat,” Belle says. Then she whispers in Rowan’s ear: “She’ll take it off within the first five minutes of walking over there.”

                Sophie’s eyes light up and she flashes them a huge smile. After Belle retrieves the coat from her closet and puts on her Sophie says: “Braid my hair.”

                “Why?” Rowan replies.

                “She wants to look even more like Anna,” Belle says.

                “Oh right.” Despite having never seen the movie, Rowan tries his best to braid her hair like Anna’s. Then they start walking to the park. On the way there, just as Belle predicted, the Anna coat ends up in her bag.

                The ‘bring your spouse day’ event is a barbecue, presumably so the husbands don’t feel too emasculated, at a local park. Belle and Rowan were already running late before Sophie demanded that Rowan braid her hair. Now, they are very late. By the time they get to the park, everyone else has already sat down and are engaged in conversation. Heads turns at the three of them approach. Belle soon realizes that they are all staring at Rowan. She and him sit on the edge of one of the picnic benches next to one of the other parents named Lindsay and her husband Mike. Sophie, meanwhile, bounds over to where the other kids are playing.

                “Um…” Lindsay says to Belle once Sophie is out of earshot. “Is that your father?”

                “I’m her husband,” Rowan answers.

                “Really?” Lindsay widens her eyes, sucks in a breath, and nods. “Okay.”

                “So, how was your trip to Cleveland?” Belle ventures, trying to change the subject.

                “The hotel wasn’t as good as last time,” Lindsay replies. “How was…um…what do you do again?”

                “Well I’m at home with Sophie now,” Belle explains. “But I might get a job at the bookstore, I’m just waiting on an interview.”

                “Oh so you don’t do anything,” Lindsay replies in a self-satisfied fashion.

                Belle looks away. This isn’t the first time she’s been mocked by the other parents, and she once again wonders why they act like that around her. “Erm…I wouldn’t say that…” she replies with hesitation. “I may not have a job but that doesn’t mean I don’t do anything. I’m with Sophie almost all the time. I take her to the park, I read to her, in fact, if I do work at the bookstore, she’s going to have to go to preschool and I will miss—“

                “Mike and I do all that with Ryan and Jessie, but, since I’m a _modern_ woman, I also _work,”_ Lindsay interrupts. “Parenting isn’t work, it’s a hobby.”

                “You think family is a hobby? You think bringing a child into this world, and making sure she’s safe and loved is a hobby?” Rowan nearly shouts. “I have a Pinterest! That is my hobby! Our _child_ is not!”

                “You have a Pinterest?” Lindsay ask

                “Aye, for sewing patterns, crochet scarfs, metalwork—“

                Lindsay laughs. “You are so… _interesting_! Is that why you married him Belle, because he’s interesting?”

                Belle nods. For a brief moment, she thinks maybe her and Lindsay can come to an understanding.    

                “Mhmm that makes sense. It was either that or—“ Lindsay laughs again.

“Or what?” Belle asks.

Lindsay lowers her voice and leans as close to Belle as she can. “—or you actually find wrinkly old men attractive.”

                Belle slams her fist on the picnic table before she can stop herself. “What is your problem? I’ve gone out of my way to be reasonable and you’ve done nothing but belittle, mock, and talk down to me since the moment we met! What have I ever done to you?”

                Now the other parents have finished eating and are gathering to watch the ensuing argument.

                “You annoy me sweetie. Your prissy, holier than thou attitude annoys me. ‘Oh look, my name is Belle, look how innocent and perfect I am! Watch me roll over and act like a doormat instead of _ever standing up for myself!’”_ Lindsay mocks. Then she turns to Rowan, “that’s probably why you like her isn’t it? She just sits there and takes it. That’s the perfect relationship for a perverted old man like you!”

                “You know what? You’re completely spot on!” Rowan replies with a smirk. “I am old and I am a wee bit perverted that’s true. But at least I’m not a cunt!”

                “What did you just call me?”

                “A cunt.” Rowan says again.

“That word is completely inappropriate for a family event!” Mike says.

“Aye, which is why it’s a good thing we are leaving!”

Then Rowan grabs Belle’s hand along with his cane and the two of them march over to where Sophie is playing.

                “…and then Elsa runs away to the forest and she builds an ice castle all by herself!” Belle hears Sophie saying to a boy who has, presumably, never seen Frozen. Belle grabs Sophie’s hand. “We’re going.” she says.

                “Why?”

                “One of the other parents was mean to Mummy,” Rowan explains as they leave.

                “Mean to Mummy?” Sophie exclaims.

                “She said some things that hurt Mummy’s feelings,” Belle replies.

                “Always remember that you don’t have to be around people who are mean to you. Sometimes the best thing to do is to walk away, if you can. Don’t argue or fight, just leave or, if you can’t, get an adult to help you,” Belle continues. “Got it?”

                “Got it!”

               

                Belle tries to put it past her and enjoy the rest of her day, but she feels a rush over anger over what happened every time her thoughts return to it. Once Sophie is taking a nap, she nearly collapses into one of the armchairs in their library with a heavy sigh.

                “How are you feeling?” Rowan asks.

                “You didn’t have to call her that,” Belle mutters, looking away from him.

                “Call who what?”

                “Call Lindsay a cunt.”

                “Why do you care, you’re not American.”

                “But _she_ is! Did you seriously not think she’d be upset about it?” Belle asks.

                “What if I wanted her to be upset?” Rowan retorts. “Look at all the things she said about you, about me, about our relationship!”

                “Just because other people are being rude doesn’t mean you have to be rude back!”

                “You’ve been letting them push you around for years, isn’t it about time that…”

                “That what? That I _stand up to them?_ Do you think I’m a doormat as well?”

                “No, I just don’t understand why you spend any time with them at all.”

                “That’s easy for you to say, you can spend months not talking to anyone and come out of the experience without losing your mind. I _need_ to be around people Rowan, and I just thought maybe, eventually, they’d like me, but you’re right, no matter how hard I try—“ Belle’s voice begins to break. “—I’ll just never have any friends, or fit in anywhere.”

                Rowan grabs both her hands. “Belle-“ He begins.

                “I’m going for a walk!” Belle exclaims.

                She gets up and turns away from Rowan and the hurt expression on his face, grabs her keys and cellphone, opens the front door, and then slams it shut.

                With tears streaming down her face, Belle trudges down the street, avoiding everyone staring at her. She does not have a place or a direction in mind. She’s just trying to get away. It is when she is lost in her own thoughts that she nearly bumps into the old man on the corner.

                The old man on the corner is the name that Belle has given to an elderly individual with long hair, a thick graying beard, and a wizened expression on his face. Belle has no idea who he is or where he is from, but she has encountered him at least once every week since they moved to Skaneateles. Every time she sees him, he shakes a bottle in her face and whispers: “Do you want to remember?” For the most part, she tries to give him a wide berth.

“Excuse me,” Belle says, trying to hurry away before he can talk to her.

                “Do you want to remember?” He replies just like every other time.

                Belle rolls her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

                “ _What goes up, must come down…”_ he begins to sing. “ _Spinning wheel got turned around. Talk about your troubles it’s a crying sin. Ride a painted pony let that spinning wheel spin.”_

                Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out the same small bottle that he always does. It is a deep shade of purple swirled with glittering grey. On it is a label that says: “Remember”

                “ _Did you find a directing sign,”_ the old man croons. _“On the straight and narrow highway.”_ With something that could almost be tenderness, he takes Belle’s palm and opens it. “ _Would you mind a reflecting sign? Just let it shine within your mind”_ he puts the potion in Belle’s palm and then closes it. _“And show you the colors that are real?”_

                Belle looks at him, eyes widened. He returns with an expression that says: ‘go for it.’ Perhaps it’s because of how profoundly miserable she is feeling, like a friendless and aimless person just drifting through time, or perhaps it is because he is almost daring her, but, against all reason and common sense, Belle pulls the cap off of the bottle and finishes the drink in one gulp.

                Then, Belle remembers.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

                The memories hit Belle like a wave crashing on shore. Like the time her sand castle was wiped out by the Australian surf in her…was it her life? **No! Fake!** False memories painted onto a canvas after what was true was wiped out. Now, they returned with a vengeance. Libraries! Ogres! Castles! Ladders! Chipped Cups! Curtains! Walls! Oh gods those stone walls!

**………………………………………………………………..Thirty…………………………………………………………………………………**

**…………………………………………………………………Years………………………………………………………………………………...**

**……………………………………………………………….....Of……………………………………………………………………………………**

**………………………………………………………………….Walls!.............................................................................................**

Separating! Reuniting! Forgetting! Remembering! Again and again! A cage…her cage? _No! His cage!_ Weddings! Dancing! **DANCING!!!**

_The time he fell asleep for far too long._

_The time he never could because of the nightmares._

The child. **_THE CHILD!!!!_**

 

Belle’s entire body is shaking. “…no…” she says in a tiny voice.

The Apprentice opens his other palm. Inside it is another potion. This one is red with golden sparkles. On it is a label that says: “Forget.”  

For a minute, Belle is speechless. All she can do is stare, slack-jawed, at the potion in The Apprentice’s hand. “H-how…” Belle stutters. Even speaking takes considerable effort. “…many times have I…taken t-that potion?”

“Not counting the first? About four or five,” The Apprentice replies back with a sanguine expression on his face. “However, this is the first time you have asked me this question. Every other time, you took this potion from my hand and drank it without saying anything.”

Belle nods. Then, with a shaking hand, she reaches for the potion, knowing that, in a few seconds time, all the pain of her former life would vanish completely…until the next time she was foolish enough to remember. Her hand hovers over his, then drops to her side.

“How many potions do you have?” She asks, her voice expressionless.

“How many do you need?”

“One for my husband in case he wants to remember, and two in case we both want to forget.”

Belle can barely hold it together as she walks back to the house. The streets almost seem to blur into the evening sky. She wonders why she chose to walk back with three magic potions in her hand, rather than forgetting instantly like all those other times. Yet she suspects that it’s because she is now wondering how much has really changed. She’s still desperate to fit in, yet finding herself friendless. He’s still holed away, only emerging from his isolation to alienate himself from everyone around him. Does it really matter that instead of living in a small town by the sea, they’re living next to a lake? Does it really matter that his distraction of choice is now crocheting and polishing antiques instead of spinning thread and crafting magical items? Perhaps, she has realized, it does not matter whether they choose to remember or forget if the end result is that they will be outcasts either way.

It is just as quiet in the house as when she left it. Sophie is presumably still asleep. _Do the brave thing and bravery will follow,_ Belle tells herself like a mantra as she walks into the library. Rumple sits on the sofa reading. Her heart nearly leaps out of her chest when she sees him. She knows now who he really is. A centuries-old former sorcerer, once the most powerful being in all the realms. Her beautiful, passionate, tender, loving Rumple. He had struggled and suffered and _died_ for her. She pulls him into a tight hug without saying a word and cries into his shoulder.

“Belle,” Rumple whispers. “I am so sorry. I should not have argued with you.”

“There’s something you need to know Ru-Rowan,” Belle replies, almost calling her husband by his true name.

“You’re still upset,” Rumple concludes. He might not be fully aware of it, but after centuries of losing nearly everyone he loved, his mind will always assume the worst.

“No,” she reassures him. “I just…I wish there was a better way to explain this…you’re going to think I sound completely crazy.”

“I promise I will not,” Rumple replies. “No matter what it is.”

Belle takes in a breath. “Our life,” she begins. “Is a lie.” She produces one of the forgetting potions. “When we moved to this town, we took one of these. Both of us together. So that we could live a normal life with…” she swallows. “…with our daughter. It gave us new memories, false ones.”

“So what you’re saying is—“

“We never met at that watercolor class. We met somewhere very far away. Where the idea of magic potions that make a person forget is not that weird.”

“Then how do we remember that life?”

Belle takes out the purple potion. “I remember everything. That is because I already drank a potion when I was out of the house. This one is for you. Oh gods you must think I’m completely—“

“I trust you Belle, with all my heart. It doesn’t matter how strange this is, I believe you.” Then Rumple takes the potion from her and removes the cap.

“Wait!” Belle exclaims. “Before you drink that, you must know that not all the memories are good. You had many enemies in that life. You’re going to remember everyone and everything that ever hurt you. And…” Belle’s voice begins to break. “ _If you take that, you will never look at Sophie the same way again._ We could take the forgetting potions. If we do that then this conversation never—“

Rumple drinks the potion before she can finish her sentence.

At first, his expression is blank, just as hers once was. Then, he pulls her onto the sofa and kisses her. They continue to kiss, as eager for the touch and taste of one another as they had been after one of their many separations.

“Why did we do this?” He asks. “Why did we want to forget who we really were?”

                “You had so many nightmares Rumple.” Every night he would wake up screaming, in tears, or gasping for breath. Sometimes it was the cage, sometimes it was the hospital, sometimes it was simply fear that, now that he was once again powerless, Zelena or another one of his former enemies would try to hurt either one of them. “You would wake up crying and _begging_ to have magic again.”

Rumple looked ashamed. “I’m so sorry Belle. I just thought…if I couldn’t protect you…”

“Please don’t be sorry, I understand why you felt that way.”

“I felt like I was nothing Belle. You-you don’t know what it’s like after having spent _centuries_ as something else, to once again become human.” Once Rumple no longer had the heightened senses and emotions that came from being the Dark One, he felt numb all the time. He said it was as if his mind was a thick cloud of fog that would never dissipate. “I felt so _worthless.”_

“You’re not worthless Rumple,” Belle replies.

“You don’t think I’m worthless, but nobody else cared about me. And you? _You_ _lost a child!_ That was why that other version of me was so hell-bent on protect his world. They were all too happy with what they had gained to pay attention to what you had lost. _Nobody gave a damn about either of us_ and what we were going through. They never talked to us unless they needed research from you, or wanted me to help them with their _Swan problem_.”

Belle laughed mirthlessly. “Wasn’t that always the case?”

“Aye, but one would think there would’ve been more sympathy for us once one of their own was experiencing what we went through.

Belle nods. “I know.”

                They both look at one another with the same broken expression. That was how it had been after Rumple had woke, two broken people trying to heal one another because nobody else would.

                “That was why we left. We had to find somewhere else away from everyone who had tried to hurt us and everyone who refused to care,” Belle ventures.

                “But that was not why we chose to forget.”

                Belle knew what Rumple had meant without him having to say anything. Sophie was the reason they had chosen to forget. While Rumple had been in the coma, a newly-cursed Emma burdened with both her own love for Baelfire and that of the Dark One’s previous host tried to murder Zelena out of vengeance. Yet, to save his unborn child, Robin Hood pushed himself in front of her and absorbed the fatal magic. He died instantly.

After Robin’s death, any chance that Zelena’s child would have of growing up in a loving, stable home vanished. Regina was eager to accept Roland into her family, but she wanted nothing to do with the offspring of her hated sister. In the months that followed, Belle would attend meetings about the child’s fate, and it soon became clear that whoever did adopt her was doing so more out of guilt than out of love. Everyone was afraid she would inherit either her mother’s magical proclivities or her hateful personality. Belle began to realize that, as long as the child remained in Storybrooke, she would become a pariah, to be hated and shunned for reasons completely out of her control. That was what she told Rumple when she confessed to him that she wanted to adopt the child. They both knew it was also out of loss for the son they would never have again. At that point, the two of them were already contemplating leaving Storybrooke, but it was only after she brought that up that Rumple told her about the forgetting potions. He said he could only adopt that girl—at that point they knew she was a girl—if neither of them retained any memory of her true parentage.

Rumple then asked The Apprentice for two forgetting potions. Meanwhile, Belle put her foot down and announced that they intended to both leave Storybrooke and adopt Sophie. Everyone was surprised, but they were not opposed to the idea. It would mean that three people they preferred out of sight and out of mind would actually be gone from their lives. Belle could almost sense their relief.

“We chose to forget because of Sophie,” Belle answered. “But now that you remember, can you really say that she is not our daughter?”

“No I cannot Belle. We _chose_ her. We _named_ her. We _raised_ her. She is ours.”

Belle nods. “Yes she is.”

“So now that we know who we really are, do we move again?” Rumple asks with a sad smile.

“It doesn’t seem like we’re that great at making friends wherever we go,” Belle replies.

“Maybe that isn’t the most important thing. Maybe it’s more important that we’re true to ourselves. Could you really say that any of those people were your real friends?”

Belle smiles and shakes her head. “We’ll find real friends,” she says. “Both of us. Friends that you won’t feel like you have to hide from.”

“Mum! Dad!”

Sophie has now woken up from her nap and is standing just outside the library.

“What is it sweetie?” Belle asks.

“I’m thirsty.”

Belle disentangles herself from Rumple and heads into the kitchen to get her a sippy cup with water. When she returns to the library, Rumple is holding Sophie in his arms and rocking her back and forth.

“I love you,” she hears him whisper. “I will always be there for you, no matter what.” He looks like he is trying his hardest to keep himself from crying. Belle lets them have their moment, knowing how important it is for him to tell her that. Then they both look up at the same time, each beckoning her to go forward in their own fashion. She hands the cup to Sophie, then sits down next to Rumple and squeezes his hand. They were a family, the three of them. In the back of her mind, Belle knew for certain that, this time, nothing would ever come between them.

**Author's Note:**

> For me, the Lindsay character represents the portion of the fandom that doesn't understand Belle or the Rumbelle relationship, not anyone on tumblr in particular.


End file.
